


The silence of the soul

by Darko (darko_axel)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Angst, Dark, Dark Past, Depression, Emotional Hurt, Insomnia, Malnutrition, Minor Injuries, My First AO3 Post, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, References to Depression, Sleep Deprivation, Sleep Paralysis, Writing Exercise, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2020-08-20
Packaged: 2021-03-06 20:34:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26015086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darko_axel/pseuds/Darko
Summary: A short story about a woman who suffered a trauma and has to deal not just with life itself, but also with nosy people and too much indifference from those who should help her.
Kudos: 3





	The silence of the soul

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here’s a preview of my first work ever posted on the internet, and I’m honestly really excited and scared at the same time… Let me know what you think!

She was writhing in bedding, out of breath. The paralytic state that seemed to possess her every night was not helpful in her reluctant attempt to recover. Tears began to flow chaotically across her face and drown her even harder. The woman had begun to get used to these conditions and to resign herself. Maybe she was going to die one night because of the nightmares and her own damaged psyche. A cool gust of wind caressed her wet back from sweat. Her physical condition was getting worse every month. She couldn't recover, sinking deeper and deeper into self-destruction no matter what she tried.

Her body was still tense, but she was beginning to catch her breath. A pitiful laugh came down her throat hurt by the terrible cries that tormented her in her sleep. She suffered from insomnia, but even when she managed to close her eyes nightmares tortured her and also her own unstable mind played awful games in her sleep.

It seemed to her that someone was in the room, laughing at her helplessness, but she had experienced this feeling long enough to realize that it was not real. The woman sighed.

The paralysis continued to make it difficult for a few more hours, but she managed to get out of her aggravated condition. Rolling hard, she fell flat on the cold parquet floor. She began to crawl towards the toilet door.

Arriving with difficulty on the tiles under the shower, she stretched out for the faucet, releasing cold water over her destroyed body.

Thoughts began to haunt her. Feeling that she had calmed down, she struggled to her feet and undressed for a shower. She knew that she had less than three hours to get to work so the woman decided to get ready.

The water caressed her exhausted body. Coming out of the shower, she picked up her wet pajamas from the wet floor and threw them in the laundry basket. She began brushing her teeth.

The eyes of the woman in the mirror were so gray as if they were out of a black-and-white film. That shade of gray was even beating a silver tone. They were lifeless. The features of the face, once delicate, were now angular. The high cheekbones sculptured in her skin and the tensed jaw stretching the white skin as if accentuating her pallor. The lips that had been pink and fleshy in the past now had a sickly tinge. For the woman's painting to be complete, a pair of dark circles adorned her features. And yet, she was beautiful, in a macabre way, but beautiful.

She turned her absent gaze towards the green corner of the room. Tastefully placed on a glass shelf in a row from the lightest shade of green to the darkest, both cacti and ivy. They reminded her of the person she was before this deplorable state in which she found herself. She remembered the raw greens that her irises changed with her mood. Her green eyes turned to relentless gray from the trauma that had changed her. It is not in her nature even now to get lost in thoughts, therefore she continues her exhausting routine.

Arrived in front of the bedroom mirrors, she grimaced. She looked like a living dead, naked in the diffused light that entered by the window. The rain didn't stop for a second, but it wasn't a storm, not like in her heart.

Enters the dressing room. Her gaze lingered on a dress. She wouldn't wear it today either. So she went in the opposite direction and taking two hangers, left the room.

The rain was always a relaxing sound to hear when in pain. She looked at the window as the rain drops descended slowly on the glass. It was a reminder of the tears she shredded then in pain. Indeed her soul was torn apart in the process, gently killing all the happy memories of the past, but she could not forget. Dealing with a trauma was like trying to move a mountain… A futile way of passing time. She could still remember the sound of the laugher and the sparks of the cheerful eyes in the night. Not knowing what happened in the end was yet as painful as recovering from the physical wounds. But she lived that way many sorrowful years. Lived was a beautiful way of saying… she just… kept being alive. It was not what she personally wanted to do, but keeping a promise she long anchored to. _Watch over me, just as I watch over you…_

Walking begun tiring her unused muscles, her breath coming shortly and ruffed. The street was noisy and full of hurried people. Many of them had either a smile on their faces as they were looking into their phones or a bored and tired appearance. The cars were passing fast just like the way time passes by. But she was walking sluggishly. Everything about her was slow and tiring. Seeing her, being near her… Everything. Her boss pitied her, that was the only reason way she was not unemployed. Indeed she was good at what she did, but it was just… too… slow…

_It was snowing, the road was wet. In the car was a light atmosphere, they were laughing. Their eyes were sparkling as they looked at each other, fingers intertwined. Sloppy lyrics were escaping their sluggish mouths. The scenery was breathtaking as the snow was descending slowly on the carriageable. A lazy pale of the wind was caring the snowflakes away in the darkness of the early night. The mountain, hugged by a dense forest of pine trees stood on the right and a half frozen river on the other. Although it was a ravine down on the right part of the road, she knew that the driver was good and keeping an eye out. She was smiling, full of life, happy even. Who knew that, that day was the last one in which she will be happy? At that moment everything was “fast” like a total contradiction of the present._

She entered the small building. Next thing she knew, she was being pushed forward by a young woman, her fragile frame unbalanced altogether, tripping over the door’s threshold and toppling on the cemented floor. The young female at fault run away without even glancing behind at the woman scattered on the miserable paving. She got up and without bothering to arrange herself she went straight to her office. On the way there, she murmured a greeting towards her co-workers. But as always they ignored her, she was like a ghost, invisible and pale. They grew tired of her a long time ago, but eventually they got used to look right through her gruesome presence.

She kept going forward, her little office laid right next to a storage closet. This is what she became.

**Author's Note:**

> © “The silence of the soul” is copyright darko_axel 2020, all rights are reserved. This work can not be modified, re-posted or translated without my permission.


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